


say things i never said

by daisysusan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn with Feelings, light painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisysusan/pseuds/daisysusan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Liam enjoys it a bit too much when Louis pinches him, and has a lot of confusing feelings about it. Also confusing blowjobs, there are those too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	say things i never said

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a PWP and then Liam had some feelings. A LOT OF FEELINGS. Many thanks to [Torakowalski](archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski) for reading this over and fixing my commas and Americanisms!

The first time Liam does it, it’s honestly an accident. He’d never thought of it like that, but earlier he and Louis had been goofing around in an interview (and ignoring Paul’s glares) so replay was on his mind. It just feels so easy to let it slip out of his mouth when Louis bites down on his neck harder than ever before. 

It’s going to leave a mark, and Liam really oughtn’t let Louis do it, but as soon as the sucking warmth is gone from his neck, he hisses out, “Replay,” and Louis immediately drops back down, licking and nibbling and—Christ, Liam doesn’t want him to stop. Louis doesn’t comment on it, just repeats the action and then squirms up to kiss Liam firmly on the mouth, so Liam is understandably distracted from anything to do with replay or lovebites or how it was the bite rather than the love that made him want it to happen again. 

After a long kiss, lips sliding and tongues tangling, Louis pulls away from Liam’s mouth—Liam leans up, chasing his lips for one more kiss—and starts alternating bites and kisses down Liam’s jawline. He can’t bite hard, and Liam’s too distracted by the sharp press of Louis’s teeth into his skin to think about why that matters to him. 

He’s unexpectedly desperate, threading a hand into Louis’s hair, unable to decide whether he wants to push him down or pull him up to kiss again. Louis seems to take it as a reason to squirm back down Liam’s body, nipping sharply a few times at his chest before pressing kisses to the skin just above Liam’s boxers. Liam wants Louis to push them down and bite across his hipbones, and he wants Louis’s mouth around his dick, and he wants to pull him up for an endless kiss while wanking them both, but all he manages to do is make a sort of high-pitched whine that Louis will probably imitate at the worst possible times. 

Luckily for him, “the worst possible times” evidently don’t include right now, because Louis just pushes the boxers down and then hovers torturously over the tip of Liam’s dick where it rests on his stomach. 

“Fuck,” Liam hisses between his teeth, quiet and harsh. He forces himself to hold his hips still, to let Louis take his time—it’s better like this, when he doesn’t know what’s going to happen and Louis drags it out until Liam is writhing and practically begging. He’s never really asked why Louis enjoys that so much—though it’s clear he does—but Liam’s starting to think that maybe he should. 

That train of thought, as well as every other train of thought he’s ever had, is cut short when Louis moves down that last little bit and sucks the tip of Liam’s dick into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking hard. This time, when Liam doesn’t move his hips, it’s because of Louis’s hand pressing them down; Liam’s going to have finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. 

He swallows hard, biting his lip against the sounds that want to escape. Louis is making soft noises around his cock and Liam wants to die. When he licks up the underside, a broad sweep of his tongue pressing hard, Liam loses the battle against moaning, his hand tightening into a fist against the back of Louis’s head. 

Louis pulls off completely and Liam definitely does not whimper a little bit. “What do you want?” Louis asks, like he expects Liam to form a coherent sentence or something. 

Liam doesn’t say anything, because if he opens his mouth, something desperately embarrassing is going to come out, a moan or a plea or something else Louis probably already knows about but that Liam isn’t quite ready to say. Louis clicks his teeth together, threatening and ridiculous all at once—he’s not going to bite Liam’s dick off, he’s made it pretty clear he _likes_ Liam’s dick. 

“Replay,” Liam chokes out, because Louis can bite something _else_ important that he’s just less personally attached to. Louis laughs, his breath warm against the head of Liam’s cock, and Liam’s hips jerk. “Replay,” he says again, more emphatically. There’s a smile quirking Louis’s lips, and the warmth in Liam’s belly shifts, still part painful arousal but tempered with the overwhelming fondness he always feels when Louis smiles at him. 

Thankfully, it works. Louis’s smile slips into a look of concentration, and he sucks Liam’s dick back into his mouth, jerking him with one hand and swirling his tongue. Liam can’t focus on anything but the places Louis is touching him, white-hot hands on his skin and his mouth which—well. His hips jerk up again—Louis can’t quite hold him down with just one hand—and Louis pinches his hip.

It doesn’t hurt much, the pain barely noticeable through the haze of everything else, but it focuses Liam somehow, pulls him back in from being overwhelmed by every point of contact he has with Louis. Liam makes another noise, doesn’t know if it’s from the pinch or the flick of Louis’s tongue or the soft hum that Louis makes. 

After the brief moment of unusual clarity, everything descends back into a haze of pleasure quickly, skin and sounds and warmth and Louis touching him until Liam can’t think of anything and his body feels like it’s on fire. He doesn’t know what he does when he comes, but after, he sinks into the mattress and watches Louis sitting back on his heels, looking like the cat who got the cream. 

That was a terrible pun, Liam thinks, his brain still running slowly. 

Louis is literally licking his lips. They’re red, redder than usual, and he looks unbelievably smug. Like he _knows_ that Liam hasn’t remembered how to work his legs yet. Liam can see the line of his cock in his y-fronts, can’t quite pull his eyes away from it. He should—he should lean forward, wrap his hand around it and then maybe his mouth as well, until the quizzical smugness falls from Louis’s face and all he’s thinking about is Liam. The way Liam could only think about him, as payback. Or something. 

Mostly Liam just wants to suck Louis off, as revenge or reciprocation or maybe just a thank-you. His thoughts are still half static, and he glances down at the places on his hips he thinks he’ll have bruises tomorrow. 

“Well?” Louis says, impatient but also clearly a bit wrecked. His voice is rough—because he’s had Liam’s cock in his mouth, Liam thinks, and it makes more of his thoughts go to white noise. The bits of movement that take Liam from lying limply on his back to tackling Louis to the mattress and pulling his briefs down enthusiastically are kind of a blur, but it’s all right because Liam’s got his hand on Louis’s leaking cock, warm and hard and familiar, and now he can actually—finally—suck Louis off. 

Louis is already leaking a little when Liam gets his mouth on him, and his hips jerk up unexpectedly. For a split second, Liam feels like he’s going to choke and then he manages to relax his throat. By then, Louis has gone still, though his thighs are shaking with the effort of it. Liam lets himself sink down farther, swallowing around Louis once and working his tongue against the underside. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Louis hisses, sounding a little reverent. “You’re—fucking hell.” Louis inhales sharply then, like words have failed him. 

Liam wants to pull off and tell Louis he can move if he wants, that Liam can—that Louis could fuck his mouth. But just the thought of saying it has him blushing, even if it also makes him press his hips roughly into the bed despite having just come. Maybe—maybe another time. 

Instead of letting Louis do—that, Liam just relaxes his throat as much as he can, and removes his hand from the base of Louis’s cock, just to see how much he can take. Not quite all, but suddenly he wants to. Like, like a challenge. 

“Liam,” Louis says. “Liam, you don’t have to—” 

But he has a hand buried in Liam’s hair, fingers twisted tight, and Liam can’t help imagining Louis pushing him down, sucks harder and moans just a little bit. 

“Motherfucker,” Louis says, sharp and tense, and then his hips are jolting the tiniest bit and he’s coming in Liam’s mouth. Liam closes his eyes and swallows once, then again, and tries to control his breathing once he’s pulled off. Mostly he feels even wobblier than he did right after he’d come, and he lets Louis drag him up for a long kiss and a longer cuddle. 

Burying his face against Louis is easier than thinking about—that. Any of that. People think weird things during sex, it just happens. There’s nothing more to it. 

“Go and make me a cup of tea,” Louis says some time later, pushing lightly at Liam’s back. “I’m thirsty.” 

“Ngh,” Liam says, muffled by Louis’s shoulder. He was aiming for something like _I don’t want to move_ but that’s a whole lot of syllables and it’s so much less effort to just grunt. 

“Come on, Liam,” Louis pleads, stretching Liam’s name out. “Tea and then we can go and play laser tag!”

“Do we have to?”

“You can’t be tired just from that,” Louis says, poking at Liam’s ribs until he giggles and then pushing him over so Louis can climb out of bed. “Fine, I’ll get the tea myself. But don’t think I’m defiling yours with sugar.”

Liam ignores him, because Louis always says that and then brings him lovely sweetened tea regardless, and curls up for the few minutes he has until Louis returns and drags him out of bed. He _has_ been looking forward to laser tag, though.

\--

A few days later, Louis is reaching up to pinch one of Liam’s nipples, and Liam’s reluctant to stop him. Louis is broadcasting the motion, which means that what he really wants is for Liam to grab his hands and lace their fingers together, but Liam is thinking of the other night—Louis biting him so hard, the edge of pain mixed headily with pleasure and arousal. The way Liam hadn’t wanted it to end, liked teetering on the edge of unpleasantness. 

Louis pinches him, and he gasps. Not loud, really, but it’s unusual nonetheless. Louis pinches nipples so much that none of them are surprised by it anymore. Zayn turns toward Liam sharply, like his head is on a wire, but luckily the interviewer doesn’t notice anything unusual beyond the molestation of Liam’s chest. She raises her eyebrows and Harry shrugs at her. 

“Is this normal for them, then?” she asks.

“Very,” Harry says. “I’m surprised it’s taken them this long to start.”

Louis takes advantage of her momentary distraction to raise one eyebrow and look quizzically at Liam. “Oh, really,” he doesn’t say. “You’re just letting me attack you now?”

Liam grabs Louis’s hand before this can get any stranger, and Louis squeezes his fingers once they’re laced together. They’re still holding hands when the interview ends, but no one looks twice at their joined hands; it’s as normal for Liam and Louis to be holding hands as it is for Harry to show up with unanticipated and ridiculous tattoos. 

And Liam loves it, he loves the feeling of Louis’s fingers tight against his, holding on almost like he’s afraid that Liam will let go. It’s a reminder that Louis feels as strongly about holding onto him as Liam does onto Louis. But Louis is looking at him strangely, like he can’t quite make sense of Liam. It’s the way he looked at Liam when they were first put together as a band, when Liam had thought the look meant Louis hated him. 

Now he knows it just means that Louis is baffled by Liam’s existence, something about not quite being able to believe he’s real. Harry pulled him aside once, when Louis was being especially tetchy about everything and before Liam could just kiss his grumpiness away, and explained that sometimes Louis was just confused by Liam. Which, of course, was—and still is—terribly confusing to Liam. But it had helped somehow, knowing that. 

As soon as they’re out of sight of anyone outside the band, Liam leans over and kisses Louis softly. Louis melts into it, wrapping his hand around the back of Liam’s neck and pulling him down. It’s warm and comforting and everything Liam’s come to expect from Louis’s kisses, which is why he’s a bit surprised by how much he wants to press harder, bite at Louis’s mouth until Louis bites back. 

It feels like all the times he laughed too loudly or moved too quickly or took too many chances just so that he could be _sure _that Louis was paying attention to him, that strange aching need to be the thing that Louis is looking at all the time, the person who commands his attention more than anyone else. And sometimes it’s so easy, sometimes all Louis does for hours is make terrible jokes that Liam can’t stop himself laughing at because, every time does, Louis looks so pleased with him that it makes his toes curl.__

__But he _has_ Louis’s attention now, he knows he does because Louis’s hand is gripping the back of his neck not-quite-tight-enough and Louis’s tongue chasing his but—it’s not enough. Liam wants the hand on his neck tighter and Louis’s teeth set in his lip and—and _Christ_ , he wants Louis to pinch him again. _ _

__Liam bites at Louis’s lower lip, not as hard as he wants to, and Louis pulls away. The only thing that keeps Liam from whining horribly is the fact that he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. (That hurts too, but it’s different. It just _hurts_ , stinging pain without the warm curl of pleasure from Louis’s attention mixed in, and Liam doesn’t like it.)_ _

__“We have another interview,” Louis says against Liam’s lips, darting in for another brief kiss. He means _we have another interview so we can’t look mussed_ and _that means no marks, Liam_. _ _

__And Liam _knows_. He doesn’t want the questions and he doesn’t want the rumors and all the other pieces of it but. Well. The idea of everyone knowing that he gets Louis’s attention more than anyone else makes him a little giddy, that people might know that Louis likes to mark his neck up, that Liam likes him doing it. _ _

__Forcing the thoughts away, Liam nods._ _

__“Love you,” Louis says, with one last quick kiss, and then he runs off after the others, leaving Liam standing by himself and trying to get a hold of himself before the next interview._ _

__\--_ _

__After that, Liam puts it from his mind and everything is nice and normal for a while. Lots of lovely kissing and snuggling and then more kissing and sex. He drags Louis out of bed first thing in the morning so they can go and rides bikes, and Louis gets him back by keeping them both up so late _being athletic_ that there’s no way Liam is going to be able to move in the morning, much less carry out his half-formed plan of convincing Louis to learn to play golf._ _

__And then there’s rehearsals at all hours, too early or too late or just too _long_ to leave Liam with any time to think about anything. They burn through days goofing around and then fall into bed every night too tired to move. Liam loves it, wouldn’t trade it for the world and not just because he’s met the best friends he’s ever had but—well, it’s exhausting, and rehearsal doesn’t have the adrenaline-kick headrush of performing on tour, and Liam spends most of it worried. They need to be working harder—he doesn’t want to mess up on stage—the more stressed he gets, the easier it is to find tiny things to worry himself into a tizzy over. _ _

__But before Liam’s even realized rehearsal is over, they’re off on tour again. It’s not quite as tightly packed or as long as the previous ones but it’s still exhausting and exhilarating, traipsing the world with his best friends and performing for screaming crowds. And unlike the stress of rehearsals, Liam comes off the stage every night drained but mostly high on it all, giddy and giggly and handsy until he and Louis get to their hotel room._ _

__Nothing really happens to bring up all those strange feelings, mostly long kisses and hidden lovebites—and not-so-hidden ones, because Louis claims he has a reputation to uphold as the bestower of unwanted neck marks. Liam tells him that makes him sound like a vampire, and then Louis bites sloppily into Liam’s neck and Liam’s laughing too hard to even think about whether it hurts._ _

__It figures, of course, that all that would be fall apart on stage, because there’s nothing Liam’s ever wanted less in his life than to be thinking about weird sex things on stage in front of thousands of people who are probably actually paying attention to his dick._ _

__If Liam could will this to not be happening, he would. He’s on stage and there are cameras everywhere and the audience is barely feet away and _this is not happening_. _ _

__Except, of course, for how it _is_. Louis is reading out the next twitter question and the grin on his face is positively devilish—and directed right at Liam. "What's your favorite Liam story we don't know?" he says. _ _

__For a moment Niall looks like he wants to answer, but Louis shoots him a pointed look and he raises his hands in surrender. Liam is already blushing and he doesn't even know what story Louis is going to tell._ _

__"Well," Louis begins, because of course he's going to milk this. "One day not so long ago, Liam went to the supermarket to get us some supper, but it somehow went terribly wrong."_ _

__It's mortifying, it really is. Liam's red as a tomato and he's seriously considering burying his face in the sofa so no one can see him but—well, Louis is totally focused on him. He's telling the audience the story, but his eyes are on Liam and he's talking about Liam and the attention is heady. It’s making his skin prickle uncomfortably, but it’s uncomfortable in a good way. Like how it feels when Louis bites him and pinches him._ _

__Taking a deep breath, Liam thinks about the proximity of complete strangers and how he’s in public and how Louis isn’t doing this to be sexual, he’s doing it to make fun of Liam because he’s a twat._ _

__Somehow, none of that quite makes the feeling go away, the tightness in Liam’s chest and the feeling that he’s not quite able to suck in enough air._ _

__“And that,” Louis says, with a shit-eating grin, “is how Liam ended up trapped outside his flat holding tTesco Value toilet paper and a bottle of vodka.” He winks at Liam, and Liam manages to not fall over, which genuinely feels like an accomplishment at this point. His skin is still tingling and, instead of going away now that Louis’s not paying attention to him, it just makes him desperate to draw it back and let it wrap around him like a comforting blanket._ _

__He also wants _Louis_ to wrap around him, press him into a bed or against a wall or anything, kiss him until he can’t remember his own name and pin his hips so he can’t move and mark his neck up until it throbs when he touches it. _ _

__They have the rest of the concert, still half the songs to go, and all Liam can think about is trying to steady himself enough to get through it without making an idiot of himself. He wants to kiss Louis so much he’s a bit mad with it, buzzing through his veins like he’s drunk—on top of the concert high he already had going. His fingers are burning with the desire—the _need_ , it feels like—to reach out and just touch Louis, even a little bit. _ _

__He can’t do anything, he can’t do anything, he can’t do anything, he _can’t_ , but god, Liam is actually going to lose his mind if something doesn’t change, if Louis doesn’t look back over at him or touch him or something, anything. _ _

__Liam makes it until their quick change, the one he’s never been very good at anyway, before the thrumming in his fingers is too much and he grabs Louis by the wrist to kiss him hard. Louis melts into it, his free hand scrabbling against Liam’s stomach and pressing himself as close to Liam as is actually possible and it’s _amazing_ but it’s not quite right either. Liam doesn’t want his fingers around Louis’s wrist, he wants Louis’s fingers around _his_ wrist and he wants his back against the wall and Louis’s teeth on his neck. He wants Louis completely focused on him and—there’s no time for that now. _ _

__“After,” Louis hisses, his voice already pitched lower than it was before Liam kissed him. Liam’s stomach drops and it takes him a few seconds to remember how to button his shirt._ _

__\--_ _

__The rest of the concert is a blur of singing and staring and Liam willing himself into not getting hard on stage, because he can barely stop thinking about what might happen _after_. _ _

__They’re so handsy on the ride back to their hotel that Niall looks a little horrified, leaning away from where Louis has climbed into Liam’s lap and is straddling him. Liam ought to care, he really ought to, but Louis is biting a path down his neck and his hand is sliding under Liam’s shirt and. Well, Louis’s attention is the only thing he’s wanted all night and like hell he’s going to give it up now. Niall can play a game on his mobile or go to sleep or something._ _

__But by the time they’re in the hotel room, Louis has gentled his kisses, turned them into lingering touches that leave Liam desperate for more but also for _more_ , more teeth and touching and desperation. He needs to know that Louis is as out of his mind wanting this as Liam is, that he goes just as mad all the times they can’t be touching. _ _

__Liam doesn’t understand at all and he’s so strange and he doesn’t know how to put it into words. _I want you to pin my wrists to the bed and bite me until it hurts and maybe choke me with your dick a little bit because that way I’ll be sure you love me_. It sounds completely daft and there’s no way he can possibly say it out loud. He can feel himself flushing just thinking about it. _ _

__“Liam?” Louis asks, all affection and tenderness and, god, Liam loves him so much. Any words he might want to say stick in his throat and he just nods. “You know I love you,” Louis says, and Liam smiles at him, affection mixing with the desperation in the pit of his stomach._ _

__Out of nowhere, Louis lunges forward and knocks Liam onto the bed, somehow managing to kiss his chin and tickle him simultaneously, and Liam tries to curl away from it and into it at the same time. He doesn’t want the tickling, as such, but he desperately needs Louis to be touching him. Mostly he just ends up gasping, trying to coordinate one hand into pushing Louis’s fingers away from his ribs and the other into pulling him into a kiss that lasts until Liam has to break away for air._ _

__Louis is touching him all over, letting his weight rest on Liam and he could move, could push Louis off him, roll them onto their sides or flip them over entirely but—he doesn’t want to. The weight is nice, anchoring somehow. Liam can’t move as easily, can’t breathe quite as easily as he could if Louis weren’t pressing him into the mattress, can’t squirm away from Louis’s dancing fingers._ _

__There’s a brief respite—Liam sucks in a harsh breath and forces himself to keep from grinding against Louis’s leg—and then Louis pinches his nipple. It’s hard and sharp, and before the pain has faded Louis does it again, twisting this time. Liam squeezes his eyes shut and gasps, straining to keep his hips from moving._ _

__“Oh,” Louis says, so low that Liam can barely hear it. He does the pinch-and-twist again, and this time Liam can’t swallow the moan, just closes his eyes so he won’t have to see Louis’s reaction to it because—because this is _weird_ , proper weird, like something from a kinky porno. _ _

__“Hey, Liam,” Louis says, right in his ear, dropping a kiss to Liam’s cheekbone. “I like seeing you react like that, it’s so fucking hot.” Liam feels another soft kiss to the same spot, and then Louis is inching downward, alternating achingly sweet kisses with messy ones full of teeth._ _

__It’s—it’s something. A relief, maybe. Liam’s having trouble remembering anything except what Louis’s teeth feel like against his neck, sharp and incautious, and then Louis’s tongue wet and warm and messy over the stinging pain._ _

__He tugs Liam’s shirt off and Liam fumbles to help him with it, and then the air is cold against his nipples and. Oh. That’s Louis’s mouth and his teeth and Liam can barely remember how to breathe. It hurts, the way Louis is biting and tugging but Liam never wants it to stop. He bites his lip against the noises that want to escape._ _

__Just before Liam thinks he’s going to lose his mind from the way Louis is swirling his tongue around his nipple, biting at it and pulling with his teeth and making Liam want to _scream_ , Louis pulls away and crawls back up to kiss him. _ _

__“I want to hear you, babe,” he says, tugging Liam’s lip out from between his teeth. Louis sucks it into his mouth briefly and then releases it. “Don’t want you hurting your pretty lips.”_ _

__Liam’s not sure how to react to that—isn’t sure he _can_ react, because the intense focus of Louis’s eyes and the way he’s staring at Liam’s lip with his hands tight on Liam’s hips is making his whole brain turn to static. He manages a shaky nod. _ _

__“What do you want?” Louis asks him, smiling encouragingly and kissing the corner of his mouth so quickly Liam almost thinks he’s imagined it. “I want you to tell me.”_ _

__Somehow, that’s what makes Liam able to speak. He can feel himself going red, but Louis _wants_ him to pick something, he can do that. _ _

__“Can—can I suck you off?” Liam says, the words whisper-quiet and hesitant._ _

__Louis smiles like he’s just been told Christmas is coming early, and Liam feels warm all over because he made that happen, he put that smile on Louis’s face and it’s all for him. Louis climbs off Liam and props himself up against the headboard, fingers fumbling over his own trousers. It takes Liam a few moments to remember he’s meant to be doing anything else, because watching Louis is hypnotic. One button at a time, and then he lifts his hips off the bed to push them and his pants down together. Liam swallows his tongue, it feels like._ _

__Louis is hard and his cock rests nearly flat against his stomach when he frees it from his pants. Liam tries to remember how to breathe and shifts so that he’s kneeling between Louis’s thighs. His mouth is actually watering a little bit from how much he wants to get his mouth on Louis._ _

__“Fucking hell, Liam,” Louis whispers, reverent. “You look, fuck.” Louis doesn’t say what he looks like, which is probably for the best. But he seems happy with it, which is enough for Liam._ _

__Crawling down so he’s nearly lying on the bed between Louis’s spread legs, Liam licks around the head of Louis’s cock, tasting the familiar musky skin. He manages not to moan at the sensation of it, the warmth and heat on his tongue, but it’s difficult. Louis does though, he lets out a low groan that Liam’s heard so many times but still loves more than anything, as soon as Liam’s mouth is on him._ _

__Closing his eyes, Liam tries not to let it overwhelm him how good it feels to have Louis’s dick in his mouth, heady and—calming, somehow. The edge of desperation that’s been chasing him since they were on stage is ebbing into the more familiar desire to get off, to get Louis off. He wraps a loose hand around the base of Louis’s dick and hollows his cheeks, sucking hard._ _

__“Liam,” Louis says, tight and breathy, and then he threads a hand into the hair at the nape of Liam’s neck._ _

__Liam whimpers just a little bit, and has a sudden flash of Louis pushing him down until he’s nearly choking, until it’s just a little difficult to breathe, and then he forces it away. He focuses on opening his throat the way he learned in singing lessons so many times, relaxing the muscles and dropping his head until he has as much of Louis’s dick in his mouth as he thinks he can fit. His mouth is almost against his hand and it’s a lot, nearly painful on his jaw, but Louis makes a tiny-choked off noise and suddenly all Liam can think of is trying harder, taking more._ _

__“Oh god,” Louis says, and he sounds breathless. “Liam, you don’t have to—”_ _

__Liam doesn’t answer him, just moves his head up and down, tries to control his gag reflex and moves his hand in time with his mouth. He wants to tell Louis that he wants this, likes the—the challenge and the taste and how Louis’s cock feels against his throat, but he doesn’t know how to say it and he doesn’t want to stop anyway. Maybe he can just say it without actually _saying_. _ _

__Closing his eyes and exhaling through his nose, Liam opens his throat more and then focuses on Louis’s noisy groan as he takes more into his mouth. It’s so difficult and he nearly feels like he’s choking, but Louis’s hand is clenched into a fist in his hair and it feels so good. Liam can barely move but he doesn’t want to let up. Louis’s fingers tighten even more in his hair and he moans, louder than he meant to but it’s muffled, anyway._ _

__“Liam,” Louis says. “Liam, I can’t—I need you to—fuck, Liam.” His hips twitch, just the slightest bit and Liam could pull off, could hold Louis’s hips down but he doesn’t do it. Louis isn’t thinking about anything but him right now, keeps saying his name and it sounds choked and desperate every time, and Liam feels like he could float away._ _

__He knows he’s hard, maybe harder than he’s ever been, but he’s less focused on that than the minute twitches of Louis’s hips. He wants to tell Louis that it’s okay, that he can move, but. Well, his mouth is kind of full of Louis’s dick._ _

__Just the feeling of it, hot and big and his jaw starting to ache is enough to have Liam moaning again, his eyes slipping shut so he can focus better on Louis’s dick and fingers and the scent of his skin. Louis’s hips jerk again, harder this time, and Liam can’t stop the noise he makes when Louis’s dick hits his throat. He can barely breathe, taking sharp breaths that don’t feel like enough in through his nose, but he desperately doesn’t want to stop._ _

__“ _Liam_ ,” Louis says, nearly harsh, and he tugs at Liam’s hair painfully hard. Liam relaxes enough to let his head be moved but he can’t keep from groaning Louis’s name as well, and apparently that’s enough for Louis, because he arches up off the bed and comes. Liam swallows as best he can, wiping at his chin when he pulls off and pressing the heel of his hand against his dick. _ _

__Louis looks completely dazed. “What the fuck, Liam,” he says, and then pulls weakly and Liam’s hips until he falls forward and they’re kissing sloppily._ _

__Liam’s not entirely sure what he’s feeling. There’s a kind of relaxed comfort from how Louis is touching him, attentive and gentle and _everywhere_ , and his jaw aches a bit, and he’s so fucking hard he might die. He pulls away to bury his face in Louis’s neck, unsure of what to do or say or—anything. _ _

__“Hey.” Louis moves his head gently, not pulling at his hair anymore, and looks him dead in the eye, serious but smiling. “That was the hottest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Liam tries to smile back but it comes off a bit shaky, he thinks. He tries not to think about it too hard. It’s enough that Louis enjoyed it, the rest of it shouldn’t matter._ _

__“Seriously,” Louis continues, hooking his finger under Liam’s chin. “I think I forgot my name for a minute. You can do that anytime you want.” He pauses, taking a moment to kiss Liam, loving and gentle and all the things that Liam doesn’t really feel right now because his mouth still hurts and he’s probably got come drying on his chin._ _

__“Can I return the favor?” Louis asks, grinning at him, eager and filthy. He doesn’t wait for a response before he’s reaching to undo Liam’s jeans and push them down as best he can. Liam can barely think with Louis’s fingers brushing against him, even through his boxers, and he bites down on his lip to try and keep from coming as soon as Louis touches him._ _

__He can feel his hips moving and doesn’t think he could stop them even if he wanted to. Louis’s hand is so warm, even with his boxers in the way, and there’s friction where the cloth is rubbing. It shouldn’t feel good, and it hurts a bit, rougher than the slide he’s used to from slicked hands. But it’s something, and Liam just keeps remembering how Louis felt in his mouth, against his throat, and then Louis’s focus on him, saying his name over and over._ _

__“Louis,” he says, his voice breaking. “Please.”_ _

__Because Louis is actually the greatest boyfriend, he doesn’t tease, he just moves his hand into Liam’s boxers and jerks him quickly. It’s too much too quickly, after not being touched for so long, and Liam’s coming embarrassingly fast, saying Louis’s name rough and low._ _

__He pitches forward after, burying his face back in Louis’s shoulder. Louis lets him stay there this time, rubs his shoulders and kisses the side of his face and whispers that he loves Liam and that Liam is amazing. It’s lovely, despite Liam still being terrified Louis will think he’s really weird, and he finds himself drifting off before he’s even realized it’s happening._ _

__The last thing Liam remembers hearing before he falls asleep is Louis whispering, “You’re my favorite, Liam, but you can’t tell the others, okay? I don’t want Harry getting jealous that I love you best. But I do love you best.”_ _

__\--_ _

__Liam’s not sure whether he _ought_ to be mortified or not, but he is. He woke up that morning with his face still smashed into Louis’s shoulder and dried come on his stomach, crunchy and itchy and generally kind of gross. It was easy to scramble out of the bed and escape into the bathroom. _ _

__He probably stayed in the shower for too long, but he was afraid that Louis would wake up before he got out and that he’d say something about—about the night before. About how enthusiastic Liam had been, or how quickly he came, or something. Liam didn’t really know, but it all felt weird and made his stomach all squirmy with something that might be embarrassment or might be arousal._ _

__Luckily for him, Louis is sprawled across the bed when Liam comes out of the bathroom, his face pressed into the pillow Liam was sleeping on. He looks comfortable and warm, and Liam wants to forget everything that was embarrassing and all their responsibilities as well, and just crawl back into bed with him. He was never properly embarrassed about all the weird feelings when he was curled up with Louis, just when he stepped away and started thinking about it._ _

__Instead, Liam gets dressed and sets an alarm on Louis’s mobile, shoving it under his head so that he’ll absolutely wake up, and then heads downstairs to see if anyone else is awake and get some breakfast. Even though the hotel has a gym, he doesn’t have time to work out before their first interview, and he’s honestly tired from—from the concert the night before. Definitely from the concert._ _

__Through the glass front doors of the hotel, Liam can see a crowd. He waves lazily, and their screams grow loud enough that he can hear them. Mostly, he’s grateful they’re being kept outside so that he can frown at his questionable hotel buffet eggs and not have to talk to anyone for a while._ _

__Harry would probably tell him not to feel odd about it, but then Harry is so odd in general—and especially about sex things. Liam doesn’t know how to be open like that, comfortable talking about everything and probably doing all sorts of experimental sex positions or something. He tries not to listen too much when Harry really gets into long conversations about his sex life, but he’s pretty much got the gist of all the stuff about being comfortable with your own desires._ _

__Liam’s pretty sure that Harry once complained to Louis about people who don’t ask for what they want in bed and how you’re left awkwardly trying to guess what they want, and remembering it makes him feel oddly guilty. He’s probably been doing that to Louis—not talking about what he’s feeling and leaving Louis to fumble it out on his own. Mostly because Liam doesn’t know what he’d say._ _

__It’s probably best left alone, because trying to bring it up would be strange and Liam has no idea what to say anyway._ _

__\--_ _

__So maybe possibly perhaps, Liam deliberately sits on the opposite end of the sofa to Louis at their first interview, which ends up being the order they sit in for their first three interviews. It’s really not a big deal, because they shuffle their order around all the time, and if they’ve tried to sit next to each other as much as possible since they—got together, or whatever, then it’s probably for the best that they mix it up a bit, so that no one gets suspicious._ _

__That’s all._ _

__Liam’s definitely not avoiding Louis, even if Zayn is giving him strange looks._ _

__When they shuffle around after their snack-and-toilet break, Zayn quirks an eyebrow at Liam, as if to ask him why he’s not sitting next to Louis. Liam glances over but doesn’t meet Louis’s eyes, and he’s embarrassingly relieved about it. (Not the fun kind of embarrassing, either, the kind that makes him feel a bit gross and slimy on the inside.)_ _

__The fourth—or maybe fifth—interviewer asks them how many of them have girlfriends, because some people can never be dissuaded from asking, no matter how many times they’re asked not to. Zayn smiles as he raises his hand, and Harry smiles as he doesn’t. Louis leans over until his head is nearly behind Niall’s and winks at Liam, who feels himself blush and is unable to keep himself from smiling back._ _

__“Oi,” Niall says, thankfully changing the tone before anyone—the interviewer—notices, and shoves Louis back. “Get your face out of my neck, your breath is vile today, Tommo.” Louis hits him in the arm, hard enough to hurt, and the situation rapidly descends into a slap-fight._ _

__They calm down quickly enough, but not before Louis nearly shouts, “My breath is never vile; you know whose is probably terrible today?” and Liam mutters “Some of us wash our teeth, Tommo,” just quietly enough that he doesn’t think anyone heard him. He doesn’t actually look at Louis, or defend himself or anything at all really. Which is probably a bit strange, but no one is going to care because Louis is busy trying to bite Niall, and Harry and Zayn are trying to answer actual interview questions._ _

__Liam’s stomach still feels kind of funny; maybe the eggs were bad. When they break for a quick lunch—two more interviews after, Liam thinks—he doesn’t really want to eat anything, so he just gets a glass of water and pretends to be busy with his mobile so no one will bother him about not eating properly._ _

__It doesn’t work, of course, because he’s in a band of nags with no sense of personal space. “Hi,” Zayn says when he sits down next to Liam and sets an egg mayonnaise sandwich in front of him._ _

__“Hi,” Liam says, aiming for chipper and probably falling a mile short._ _

__“Are you all right?” Zayn asks, frowning at Liam and reaching out like he wants to touch his arm. “It’s not like you to skip meals.”_ _

__Liam shrugs. He can’t _lie_ to Zayn, not an actual lie, but he can just sort of … not say anything. That’s not the same as lying. Besides, his stomach really does feel peculiar, so he tells Zayn as much. _ _

__“Do you want to go and lie down on a sofa?” Zayn asks, gentler this time, and Liam nods._ _

__They find a sofa in something that might be a green room. They’re probably not meant to be there, but it’s quiet and besides, Liam and Zayn aren’t the ones who trash dressing rooms. Well, not by themselves, at least. Zayn sets the sandwich on the small table and tugs until Liam’s head is in his lap._ _

__It’s nice, closing his eyes and letting Zayn’s fingers run through his hair. Liam’s not especially sleepy, but he could spend an hour like this, just ignoring the world and not having to deal with anything difficult._ _

__“Did something happen with you and Louis?” Zayn says, his hand stilling briefly. Liam goes completely still, his shoulders tensing. He swallows hard. “It’s just, well.” Zayn pauses for a moment, and Liam thinks he’s probably uncomfortable. “We can all tell when you two aren’t right, because the whole band feels off.”_ _

__Liam only gets tenser and his stomach clenches with guilt. He shouldn’t let being kind of a freak mess up the whole band; he and Louis knew when they decided to give it a go that they were essentially taking the fate of the band into their hands. They even discussed it with the others, whether it was worth the risks. Of course, they’d all said to go for it and wished them well and made embarrassing sex jokes._ _

__But now Liam’s questioning it, because if he can’t even avoid his boyfriend for a few hours without it messing up the dynamic of the whole band, well. That’s not good._ _

__He feels Zayn’s fingers against his scalp, scratching lightly, and it’s so relaxing that Liam just wants to tell him everything. He doesn’t have the words for it, not really, but it’s so tempting. Zayn probably wouldn’t call him a freak or laugh in his face or anything; he’s too lovely to do that. Harry definitely wouldn’t laugh, Liam thinks idly, he’d probably offer lots of pointers or something._ _

__That might be worse than laughing._ _

__“Last night, I,” Liam begins, but he can’t say it. It’s one thing to do things, but it’s another thing entirely to talk about them with anyone. Especially anyone who isn’t Louis. What if Zayn doesn’t want to know about what Liam likes in bed?_ _

__It’s a dumb thing to worry, because they’ve all overshared everything; once or twice even Harry has looked uncomfortable during games of truth or dare, though he’s never had to take a forfeit either._ _

__“Is it a sex thing, babe?” Zayn asks, his fingers still moving slowly across Liam’s scalp. Liam’s seriously considering just taking a nap here, using sleep as an excuse to avoid Zayn’s questions and getting a bit of rest to boot. Instead he nods._ _

__“Nothing horrible,” Liam says, after a brief pause, because he doesn’t want Zayn to worry that Louis was like, taking advantage or something. “Just—I did something a bit weird.”_ _

__Zayn makes a noise that Liam can’t interpret. It could be curiosity, or maybe sympathy, or maybe it’s just kind of a surprised squeak he’s muffled a bit. “What did Louis do?” he says._ _

__Liam lets out a slow breath through his nose. “He seemed to like it.”_ _

__“Yeah?” Zayn says, his voice warm and rough and comforting. “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, I bet. But you probably ought to talk to him about it.”_ _

__Liam really, really hates it when Zayn is right. Because it means that he needs to find the words for all the things he’s been avoiding—the ways he wants Louis to touch him, the ways he wants to touch Louis._ _

__“Can’t I just ignore it until it goes away?” he whines, because Zayn won’t judge him too much._ _

__“I’m not going to bother answering that because there’s no chance you’ll actually do it,” Zayn says. “You’re strange and responsible, like some sort of space alien.”_ _

__Liam giggles reluctantly at that, and accepts the soft kiss Zayn places on his temple._ _

__“Love you, babe,” Zayn says, and Liam mumbles the words back to him._ _

__He does end up dozing off for a few minutes with Zayn’s hand in his hair, and he’s gently rustled awake when they have to head back to be interviewed more. Lou’s not thrilled about the state of his head, but her frown slips away after she studies Liam’s face for a moment. She doesn’t say anything, but she squeezes his shoulder in a motherly, encouraging way and guides him into a chair so she can make his hair presentable again._ _

__There’s not much more left for them to do that day, and Liam ends up spending most of it trying to wrangle his thoughts into sentences he can say to Louis later._ _

__\--_ _

__Technically, the room is just Liam’s—they all get singles now, because apparently that’s how you do a world tour when you’re fucking loaded, as Niall would say—but Louis is sitting on the corner of the bed when Liam opens the door when he gets back from the tiny hotel gym._ _

__“Hi,” Liam says, nervous like he hasn’t been around Louis since he was seventeen and unsure what to make of such a handsy boy. Louis grins at him, but it looks a little forced._ _

__“I think we should talk,” Louis says. Liam’s stomach turns over with worry, even though Louis looks more twitchy than grim. “About sex,” he adds, so blunt it makes Liam giggle uncomfortably. He beckons Liam over and pulls him down onto the bed, lacing their hands together._ _

__Liam’s already blushing, can feel his cheeks hot and red, and Louis hasn’t even said anything yet, but Louis is sitting right next to him and is holding his hand and it doesn’t seem _terribly_ likely he’s going to call Liam a freak and then perform an exorcism on him or anything. Maybe this conversation won’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. He swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, because it would have to be pretty terrible and every time he thinks of terrible things—_ _

__“Babe,” Louis says, so close Liam can feel his warm breath. “Whatever horrible thing you’re building up in your mind isn’t going to happen.”_ _

__Liam’s stomach unclenches just the slightest bit. “I love you,” Louis says, right in his ear even though there’s no one around, just the two of them in a hotel room somewhere in the middle of America. Liam has no idea if it’s the words or the soft, familiar stroke of Louis’s hand down the back of his neck that does it, but he feels his shoulders relaxing and he curls in to tuck his face into Louis’s shoulder._ _

__Still, he wishes there were a way to say it that wasn’t, “when you make fun of me, it makes me want to suck you off and also I like it when you hurt me.” Louis might not think he’s a freak now, but if Liam just up and says that, all bets are off._ _

__“Come on, love, it’s fine,” Louis says, all soft and encouraging. It’s how he talks to kids; Liam’s heard him use this tone with Daisy and Phoebe when they’re scared, and it’s odd that Louis’s using it with him, except for how it isn’t. And it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket._ _

__“I like the pinching,” Liam says. Easier to start slowly. “ _Like it_ like it.”_ _

__Louis smirks just a little bit. “I noticed,” he says, kissing just below Liam’s ear. “Keep going.”_ _

__“Er.” Liam bites his lip, unsure what to say next. “I—yesterday, on stage, with the story. I liked that, too.” Louis quirks an eyebrow at him and smiles, but doesn’t say anything this time. He kisses Liam’s neck again, though, which is a nice enough reward to keep Liam going. “I like when you’re only paying attention to me. And when it hurts a bit. I like that too.”_ _

__Louis is staring at him intently, his pupils a little blown._ _

__For the first time, it occurs to Liam that Louis might like it too. He feels a bit ridiculous for never having thought of it before, too caught up in how he must be a complete freak, but the way Louis is looking at him. Well. Maybe he's got it a bit wrong. Still, he's not quite sure what to make of the look Louis is giving him, part fondness and part surprise and part ... arousal? He's looking at Liam the way he does when Liam's about to suck him off, or when Liam's got his fingers in his arse and—Liam's finding it difficult to focus on the conversation they're meant to be having._ _

__"You've been worried about this for a while, haven't you?" Louis asks, but his voice is pitched too low. He doesn't sound comforting anymore, he sounds like he wants to press Liam back into the bed and hold him there. Or maybe that's just what Liam's hoping he sounds like. Either way, he nods once, not quite meeting Louis's eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the hint of a smirk that crosses Louis's face._ _

__Louis doesn't say anything condescending or mocking, though Liam rather expects him to. He doesn't even pinch Liam's cheek or tweak his nipple, just smiles warmly—though not without an undercurrent of something else. "It's all right," Louis says. "I like it too."_ _

__It's like someone's removed a weight from Liam's chest. "Really?" he hears himself say, all hopefulness. He feels a bit silly once he's said it; obviously really, why else would Louis be having this conversation instead of calling him a freak and never speaking to him again. But it's nice to hear, even if Liam doesn't think he'll ever be able to say all the things he wants from Louis aloud without turning some interesting shades of red._ _

__Liam’s not expecting it when Louis kisses him, though he probably should have been. His mouth is firm but not insistent, and it would be easy for Liam to push him away, if he wanted to._ _

__He really, really doesn’t. (He never does.)_ _

__“You should tell me more about the things you like so we can do them,” Louis says, pulling back and resting his forehead against Liam’s. Liam swallows hard but doesn’t say anything. “Pinching, yeah?” Louis continues. Liam tries not to nod too enthusiastically. “And you liked it when I fucked your mouth.”_ _

__Liam, to his eternal embarrassment, makes a little noise that’s half shame and half enthusiasm. Louis’s eyes sharpen. “You _really_ liked it.” After a pause, he asks, “What about being tied up? Or spanking?”_ _

___Oh_ , Liam thinks, his ears filled with some sort of buzzing that’s maybe just all the blood in his body rushing to his dick. “Fuck,” he whispers, and Louis grins again. _ _

__“Right, saving those for later.”_ _

__“Or maybe,” Liam says, feeling himself turning bright red, but Louis can’t just offer things like that and not follow through. “Maybe not for later. At least not all of it.”_ _

__Louis is the one who swears this time, and he sounds a bit reverent when he does it. He kisses Liam so hard, Liam might never remember his name again, his hands clutching futilely at Louis’s shoulders and scrabbling at his back. The kiss goes on for a long time, it must, because by the time it ends, Liam’s out of breath even if it only felt like a few moments._ _

__“If you’re sure,” Louis says, placing a quick kiss to Liam’s upper lip. “I can—with a tie. Or just hands. Fuck, Liam.” He sounds breathless and he’s nearly vibrating with contained energy._ _

__“Hands,” Liam says, sounding choked even to his own ears. “Hands would be nice, please.” He can barely think, imagining Louis’s hands tight around his wrists, warm and solid and focused. It’s overwhelming and it’s not even happening yet._ _

__And then Louis is tackling him back onto the bed. Liam’s head hits just below the pillows, his legs hanging awkwardly off the end, and he doesn’t care at all because Louis is kneeling over his hips and unbuttoning his own shirt slowly. Like a strip-tease. Liam reaches up to touch the skin he’s revealing, chest and stomach and the small trail of hair that leads down, but Louis stills his hands and catches Liam’s eye. “Nuh-uh,” he says. “No touching.”_ _

__Liam immediately drops his hand back to the bed, and then moves them both when Louis instructs him to put them above his head. When Louis has got his shirt off and flung it across the room, he leans forward to kiss Liam again, reaching up with one hand to pin Liam’s wrists. His hands are soft and warm, but Louis’s grip is firm and while Liam could probably wrench himself free, it wouldn’t be easy._ _

__Besides, he doesn’t especially want to._ _

__Louis is grinding against him, hips working rhythmically even though they’re both in their jeans from the day. Liam wants to reach up and touch him, wrap a hand around his neck and pull him closer, tug at the soft hair at the back of his neck, even just lace their fingers together to anchor himself. But the fact that he can’t is driving him mad, hips moving fast, already. It ought to hurt where he’s hard and leaking against the zip of his jeans but all Liam can think about is the places Louis is touching him and all the things Louis could do, if he wanted._ _

__When Louis tightens his hand on Liam’s wrists, Liam hisses and punches his hips up sharply. Louis lets out a small choked noise and fumbles at Liam’s jeans with his free hand. He can’t get them down without shifting around, and he groans against Liam’s mouth when he realizes it._ _

__“Don’t move,” Louis says, and then he releases Liam’s wrists and scrambles off, stripping off his own jeans and briefs and then tugging Liam’s down quickly. Before Liam’s even processed the sight of Louis naked—he’s still not entirely used to it—his wrists are pinned to the bed again._ _

__This time, when he rolls his hips, his dick is pressed up next to Louis’s, skin on skin. He moans, and his hands jerk. But Louis’s grip is unwavering. He might have bruises. The thought of Louis’s fingers marking bruises on him, combined with the skin everywhere and Louis mouthing at his neck and—Liam’s not going to last._ _

__No one’s ever done this for him—with him?—before. He should maybe have mentioned that to Louis. Not that it matters now, when his hips are moving rhythmically and his stomach is shaking and Louis is moving his mouth to nip at Liam’s earlobe._ _

__Liam opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a choked off groan, because Louis has somehow worked a hand between them and he’s wanking them both. His grip is loose but his dick is so, so hot against Liam’s, hot and there’s nearly too much friction because Louis isn’t even bothering to use their precome to smooth his way._ _

__“Do you want to try spanking next time?” Louis says, right in his ear. His voice is low and rough and strained, and Liam loves it. “I could leave you all nice and red, and then every time you squirmed in your seat, I’d know why and think about it. It would be all we both thought about the whole day. You’d be so pretty and sore and I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes off you.”_ _

__Liam nods jerkily, unable to form thoughts at all. All he’s aware of is Louis’s mouth warm against his ear and Louis’s hand on his dick, and then he tensing up, arching off the bed and coming so hard it makes him feel like he’s covered in tiny pinpricks. Once he can feel anything at all._ _

__When he manages to open his eyes, Louis is gaping at him and wanking himself fast and hard. “Jesus—fucking—Christ—Liam,” he grits out before he’s coming, splattering Liam’s stomach and his own fist. Liam’s too busy trying to remember how to move to stop Louis from collapsing forward onto him._ _

__It’s messy and a bit gross, the way they’re both covered in spunk and sweat, and Liam really ought to get up and find a towel. He rubs his wrist in an unfocused way, wondering again if they’ll bruise._ _

__“That was incredible,” Louis says. “In case you weren’t sure if I enjoyed it too. Because I did.”_ _

__Liam had kind of gathered that, but it’s nice to hear Louis say it regardless. He scoots up just enough to kiss Louis, soft and mostly chaste. Louis immediately turns it dirty, sliding his tongue into Liam’s mouth and not letting up until they’re both out of breath. Then he pulls back with a quick kiss to Liam’s nose, and another to his eyebrow._ _

__“And I love you,” he adds. Liam hums, too tired to speak. “I did some reading,” Louis continues softly. “You’re meant to let me take care of you after—after things like that. So no running away from cuddles anymore.”_ _

__Liam makes a wordless noise of protest, because he’s not run away from cuddles for at least two years now. If it maybe sounds more like, “I love you too,” than anything else, well. No one will ever know except maybe Louis, and he’s not telling._ _

__If he does, Liam will just tell the others he said Liam’s his favorite, and they’ll bother him for the rest of his life. Louis _has_ to keep his secrets now, Liam thinks, kissing whichever bit of Louis is closest to his mouth before he falls asleep._ _

__It turns out to be the tip of Louis’s nose, and he kisses it again in the morning when he wakes up, feeling entirely too happy for someone as objectively gross as he is._ _


End file.
